Demons
by staringmushrooms
Summary: Ron goes nuts and ends up at St. Mungo's, where Draco is working. Will Draco be the one to help him out?
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Demons**

**Author: staringmushrooms**

**Pairing: DM/RW**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: slash, swearing**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Any character you don't recognize is my own creation. **

It was quite cold that day. Chilling winds flew through the gates of London, leaving only those with thick robes and hats without goosebumps. Even though there weren't many people in the streets, the shops had more customers than usual. Most of the shoppers went inside to recover from the biting cold. Ron Weasley, on the other hand, didn't.

Ron sat behind one of the shops in Diagon Alley, his back leaning against a brick wall. His red hair had grown to cover most of his face, making it hard to see his eyes. He had stopped feeling the cold long ago. Even though he only wore a light robe, he didn't notice it at all. He was staring at something in his lap, chuckling like he was on the border to insanity. Red blood was flowing freely from his wrists, soaking his dark robe and the ground beneath him. His vision was blurry, making it hard to see exactly how much blood he'd lost.

The sound of a door being firmly shut made him stop laughing. He yanked his head up, catching a glimpse of the wizard; at least he thought it was a wizard, trotting down the stairs. The wizard however seemed to have seen more of him, as he suddenly started sprinting towards the redhead. As he got closer, Ron could see that he was quite old. A giant beard and some very huge glasses made that painfully obvious.

"By Merlin's beard," the wizard mumbled when he saw the pool of blood. His gaze was then drawn to Ron's face. Ron chuckled. This seemed to make the other think he was crazy, because his face suddenly got a lot whiter. Ron could hear the man whisper some familiar words and the bleeding from his wrists suddenly stopped. It must have been some healing charm or something.

Mr. Beardface , as Ron had decided to call him, then got to his feet and ran back into the building he came from. He was yelling - quite loud too. Ron could make out a few words, such as "St. Mungo's" and" emergency". The redhead closed his eyes. He felt like he was falling, even though he knew he sat completely still. After what seemed like years Mr. Beardface came back out, but this time he was accompanied by someone else. As Ron slipped into unconsciousness, they picked him up and carried him inside.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in his office at St. Mungo's, doing some paperwork on one of the patients. He had a bunch of papers stacked in a tall pile to his right. He was supposed to be finished with all that before nightfall, but that wasn't going to happen. Since the hospital was pretty busy these days, everyone dumped their paperwork on him. Draco was just about to pour himself another cup of much needed coffee when a brown haired nurse burst into his office without knocking.

"Dr. Malfoy, we need your help. It's a new patient" she said, breathing heavily. Draco stood up. As they jogged down the hall the nurse explained further; "The patient was found behind a shop in Diagon Alley with his wrist slit, laughing like a maniac. The wizard that found him managed to stop the bleeding, but he has lost an awful lot of blood. They just arrived by Floo Powder – "

She was cut off when they reached the patient. Draco caught a glimpse of red hair as he gripped the bed he was laying on and rushed him further into the hospital. "Talk to whoever found him!" he yelled back at the nurse as he turned a corner. Once he reached his destination another nurse had joined up with him. This one was skinny with short red hair, and her name tag read Mariah McHolt. "We need to get some blood" Draco instructed her after quickly checking the patients' blood type. When the nurse went to get the blood he got the chance to take a better look at the patient. He seemed awfully familiar, but he couldn't figure out exactly who he was. He sighed.

McHolt arrived with the blood and they hooked him up to the machine. It was pretty much the same as the muggle ones, as there weren't any safe magical way to do it. "We need to monitor him" he told McHolt. Draco was already cutting through the fabric of the John Doe's robes with a simple charm. After he had pulled away the robe, the patient was simply lying there exposed to everyone other in the room. Draco didn't mind the sight; he was used to it, being a doctor and all. Draco and McHolt placed some wires around the patient's torso. The machine started to beep. Although his heartbeat was a little unsteady, it could have been a lot worse. They had just managed to get some hospital robes onto the patient when McHolt was called out to assist another healer. Draco then bandaged the redhead's wrists before he finished doing what he could while the patient was still unconscious.

Draco pulled a chair out from the wall. The fact that he couldn't figure out who the patient was bugged him. Eventually he gave up and watched the monitor instead. He was just about to get up and get some coffee when the first nurse showed up. She gave him a smile and started talking; "Mr. Dalewood found him behind his shop in Diagon Alley just before they arrived. He and Mrs. Dalewood then carried him inside and got him here using Floo Powder. They have no idea who he is or why he was there."

"I don't know who he is either," Draco said, looking at the patient. Then it hit him. Even though he had lost a lot of weight and his face was covered by greasy tendrils of hair, a small trace of who he once was still remained. "Well actually I do… It's Ron Weasley."

**This is short and stuff, but it will have to do. c:**

**And ermm, reviews are always appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: Demons**

**Author: staringmushrooms**

**Pairing: DM/RW**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: slash, swearing**

**Disclaimer: I'm not Jo, and therefore I do not own anything. If you think I am you might have sniffed something. **

When Ron woke up he had no idea where he was. He felt disoriented, his head was spinning and the dim lights in the room didn't make it any easier for him. He groaned and turned over to his side. The wires from the monitor tightened against his chest and made him aware of the steady beeping from the monitor. He had to be in some kind of hospital or something. It was the only thing that seemed right.

He tried to sit up, but his bandaged wrists made it hard for him to use his hands. After some struggling he finally made it and sat upright. His head felt even worse now and the feeling of falling once again made its appearance. He lent forward, trying to clear his head. He sat like that for what felt like hours, before someone opened the door. Ron didn't dare to move his head to take a look at them, afraid he might trigger the dizziness again.

"You're awake," a familiar voice said. Ron couldn't quite place it, but he didn't need to. Whoever came in turned on the lights and walked directly into his view. It was none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy," Ron groaned. "What the fuck are you doing here? Or more important, what the fuck am I doing here?"

"That's not how you should speak to your doctor, Weasley" Draco replied.

Doctor? Shit. Draco had to be his doctor. Even though everyone thought they became friends or something after the war ended, they never did. Nothing ever really changed. They simply found a way to not constantly get in each other's face.

"I want a new doctor," Ron managed to croak out.

"If you could you would already have one. It's not like I want to be your doctor, to put it like that."

Ron groaned again. "What am I doing here, Malfoy?" he asked, barely keeping his head under control.

"You were found behind a shop in Diagon Alley with both of your wrists slit. We're not quite sure why exactly, so we'll figure that out. But first, you need some breakfast," Draco said, doing his best to keep professional.

"I'm not hungry," Ron groaned. His mind was racing. He could barely make out a few threads of memory from last night. He remembered that he felt somewhat possessed, even though he thought clearly. It was all kind of a blur, really.

"It doesn't matter. You need to eat –"

"Have I gone mad?" Ron interrupted him. "I mean - - with the wrist slitting and stuff?" He could feel his face redden a bit. This wasn't really something to be embarrassed about, but he was scared, and _that _made him embarrassed.

Draco looked down. "To some extent; yes. But we can't really be sure until we get you talking to someone. At the moment were unsure of who that's going to be exactly, but we'll figure something out. Will you eat some breakfast now?" he sighed.

Ron shook his head, only to regret it seconds later. He felt even dizzier than before. "Fuck, the room is spinning," he mumbled.

"We can give you something for that, if you want," Draco offered.

"Yeah, that'd be great," Ron said, rubbing his temple.

Draco searched through his pockets after something, and moments later he found what he was looking for. It was a small vial, containing some blue-ish elixir. "Here" he said, and gave it to Ron. "Drink everything at once, you'll feel better in a couple of minutes."

"Thanks, I guess," Ron mumbled before he downed the liquid. It burned on its way down, and he coughed. Draco didn't seem to notice.

"I'll come back in a moment with your breakfast," Draco said, sounding eager to get out of the room. Ron nodded and Draco made his way out of the room.

Ron pulled a tired hand through his hair. It felt greasy, like he hadn't showered in days. He supposed he hadn't. He couldn't really remember too much from the last couple days. Memories were entwined into each other; dreams could be reality just as easily as they were fantasy. He blinked hard when his eyes began to fill with angry tears. He was scared that he had gone completely nuts. _He_ wasn't supposed to be scared. He had helped Harry Potter to defeat Voldemort. He was supposed to be fucking brave, not a complete pussy.

When the first tear rolled down his cheek he felt lost. He didn't feel like himself anymore, more like a faded copy. He wiped the tear away with harsh movements. Luckily, whatever he drank before seemed to work, the room wasn't spinning as much.

He had wiped away more angry tears when Draco once again made his appearance, this time with a tray filled with food. He placed the tray on Ron's nightstand, and took a step back. Ron blinked fast, to make his eyes look like they weren't filled with tears. Draco's mouth twitched, as he was about to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. He cleared his throat.

"Eat up," he said. "We need to monitor you for a couple more hours, but if nothing gets worse we can send you home tonight."

Ron looked up, surprised. "Already?" he asked.

"Yeah. The hospital is a little crowded, so we need all the beds we can get. You're not in any real danger anymore, and therefore we have to send you home," Draco answered him, without showing any emotion on his face.

"Oh" was all Ron said. He didn't feel brave enough to go home, in case the same thing would happen again. But there was _no_ way he was going to tell Malfoy that. "Okay, then."

Draco turned around. "I'll come back to take some test in an hour. You better have eaten your food when I come back."

Ron didn't answer him. He didn't plan to eat his food. Maybe if he didn't his tests would worsen. He hoped so. As Draco left the room Ron pulled the covers over his head and rubbed his face. He was a little tired, but he didn't want to sleep either. He rolled over to his side and closed his eyes. He still felt dirty, and he probably smelled like crap. Maybe one of the nurses would allow him to take a shower, if he asked them.

He slowly pulled the covers off. The air felt cold on his skin, giving him goose bumps everywhere. He got up and made his way to the door. He stuck his head out, looking for a nurse or a healer. It took a while before he spotted one. It was a short, blonde woman with a kind smile.

"Err, hi," Ron said awkwardly.

The nurse looked right at him. "Hello," she smiled.

"I was just wondering if I could take a shower or something," Ron asked her, looking down. He wasn't usually this shy, but there was something about the hospital robes he was wearing that made him really uncomfortable.

The nurse shot him a big smile. "Of course you can!" she promised happily. "Third door to the left, there are towels and clean robes there, help yourself. You can just shower with the bandages on, they dry automatically. Don't take too long though, or we might have to come in to check on you," she laughed.

Ron let out a nervous laugh too. It sounded like she wanted to come in and check on him, but that couldn't be it. He was just getting paranoid. "Okay," he said, almost whispering.

The nurse walked away, still with the stupid smile on her face. Ron made his way to the shower. He got in and locked the door. He could see a shelf with towels to his right, and some robes were hanging next to a mirror to his other side. He quickly stripped and got into the shower. The warm water felt good. He got some shampoo out of a small bottle and quickly washed his hair. He decided to be quick, in case someone actually came to check on him.

After he got out of the shower he quickly dried his hair and threw on some clean robes. Looking in the mirror, he tried to make his hair look okay, but he failed miserably. Deciding on not to care, he dumped his used robe in some container and got out of the room.

He made his way back to his room, where his breakfast still lied untouched. He resisted the urge to eat some of it and sat down on his bed. He studied the bandages on his wrists. They were dry already, just like the nurse said. He wanted to rip them of and look at what was underneath them, but he didn't dare. Maybe he would have some horrible scar or something. Shaking his head he took a deep breath. He needed to relax.

A loud knock on his door made him aware that Draco came in to take some tests. "I'm just gonna take some drops of your blood, it won't hurt," he explained. Without a word Ron let him do it, praying that they were bad. Draco made a tiny hole in his finger with a sharp needle, and dripped a couple drops of his blood into small vials filled with colorful liquid. Some of them changed colors, some of them didn't, but Draco seemed pleased with the result.

"This is good," he said. "You'll be going home in an hour." And with that he left, before Ron got the chance to ask him anything.

Ron was frightened now. What if he were to go home and went completely mad? What if he tried to kill himself again, or worse – someone else? Fuckfuckfuck. This was _not_ good.

When the hour had passed, Draco made his way to the Weasley's room. After quickly knocking on the door he opened it, without waiting for an answer. Ron was lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Ready to leave?" Draco asked. Ron didn't answer him. Was something wrong? "Are you alright, Weasley?" Draco asked him, with a hint of worry in his voice. Fuck. He wasn't supposed to be worried about anyone. Much less a Weasley.

"Yeah," Ron almost whispered.

Even if Draco was a Malfoy, and didn't know any of the Weasley's particularly well, he knew that this wasn't the way Ron usually behaved. "Are you sure you're ok?" he pressed on.

Ron took a few seconds before he answered. "I'm just scared," he admitted. "I don't wanna go home." Draco could see his face redden a bit.

"You have to go home. Don't be a chicken, Weasley."

Ron shook his head. His whole body was shaking. Draco wasn't sure if it was because he was scared or because he was angry. Ron folded his arms over his chest, as if they protected him.

"Look, we need this room. You need to go home," Draco continued.

Ron bit his lip. "I don't wanna be alone," he muttered.

"But we can't send anyone with you. We need the healers as much as we need the rooms."

"Then I'm not leaving," Ron said stubbornly.

Draco took a few seconds to think things over. They needed him elsewhere, so he couldn't spend hours convincing Weasley to go home. Not only would he get flamed by his boss, but he would also be forced to do all of the most disgusting work for the rest of the week.

"Can you go home if I stop by your apartment on my way home?" he proposed.

"B-but I don't want to be alone at all," Ron stammered.

"It's the best I can do," Draco said, trying to sound nice.

Ron closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Alright," he said, almost sounding like he was okay.

**So this chapter is a bit longer than the first one. It ended up being a little longer than I intended, but I hope it's alright. Tell me if you like the length or not, please. And hey, reviews are very much appreciated. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: Demons**

**Author: staringmushrooms**

**Pairing: DM/RW**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: slash, swearing**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter etc. **

When Draco got off work that day, he hurried outside and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. It was the address Weasley had given him right before he left the hospital. The building wasn't too far away, so he could easily walk there. He had changed to muggle clothing before he got off work, as to go unnoticed by muggles, and now he quickly made his way over there.

Ron lived on the third floor, in apartment 304. It was easy for Draco to find, so he made his way up the stairs and into the apartment. The door was unlocked, making it easy for him to get inside. The apartment seemed empty at first. "Weasley?" he called out, while unzipping his jacket.

A groan coming from across the room pierced the silence. "I'm here," a voice said, almost whispering.

Draco spotted him. He was curled up in a ball, covered in a striped blanket. His hair was sticking out at odd angles and his eyes looked tired. He looked terrible, to be honest.

"Hello," Draco said, looking at the floor. He wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.

"Hi," Ron replied while he sat up. The blanket covered his shoulders and most of his torso, making him look years younger than he really was.

"Yeah, I was just gonna check that everything was alright, and it seems to be, so if you don't mind I'll just leave now," Draco said. He really didn't want to spend any more time here than necessary.

Ron's face turned pale, making every freckle stand out. "You can't leave," he said, sounding terrified. "What if something happens and I'm all alone and…" he didn't finish the sentence.

"But I have to go home; I can't stay with you all night. Why can't you just send an owl to your mother or something?" Draco asked.

"I don't want to mix my mother up in all this. I really don't."

Draco sighed. "I'm not staying, so you better come up with something."

"Why can't you just stay? I mean – I don't wanna be alone." Ron whimpered, sounding more and more scared every second.

Draco had no plans of staying. "I'm not staying. Face it," he said harshly.

Then something he had never expected to witness happened; Ron broke down crying. _Ron Weasley _broke down crying. A burst of sympathy struck Draco.

"I don't want to be alone," Ron whispered. His already pale face got even whiter. "I don't want to be alone, I don't want to be alone," he continued hysterically.

Draco had made his way over to the redhead and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You'll be fine," he said and turned to leave. But he didn't get far, as it only took Ron a split second to stand up and grab the other's wrist. The blanket fell off his shoulders and landed in a heap on the floor.

"Please don't leave me," he breathed. His whole body was shaking and his breathing was unsteady. Tears continued to roll down his cheeks but he didn't bother to wipe them away. To Draco, he looked scared out of his mind.

"Please."

And then, Draco did something he never thought he would; "It's okay, I'll stay" he said before he pulled the redhead into a hug. He could hear Ron sobbing against his shoulder, making the his thin cotton sweater wet. Draco patted him awkwardly on the back until the sobbing came to a halt. "Feel better now?" he asked somewhat roughly, not sure what to make of all this.

"Yeah," Ron answered, almost whispering. He quickly wiped a couple of tears from his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater.

Displeased with himself, Draco slumped down on the couch. He had touched the Weasley. _He had fucking hugged the Weasley_. This wasn't going anywhere good. Nowhere good at all. He cleared his throat. "Well, If I'm staying I'm gonna need some food," he said icily, trying to sound like his normal, cold self.

"I can make some," Ron offered, his voice still shaky from crying. Draco shrugged.

"Fine by me," Draco answered coldly.

When Ron disappeared into the kitchen, Draco had a chance to take a better look at the room. The walls were white and empty, and stood in great contrast to the noisy city revealed by the windows. The couch Draco was seated in was placed directly in front of two large ones. The front door was right in front of him. It was fairly small and grey, with one of those cheap muggle locks. Weasley didn't seem to have much use of the lock though, as the door had been unlocked when Draco arrived. A black birdcage was placed to the left of it. A small, brown owl was sitting inside, drinking from a cup of water. Beside the cage was a simple bookcase. Every shelf was filled with books of different colors and sizes. That amused Draco; he'd never thought Weasley was one read much. On the other side of the entrance door was three doors. The two first probably led to a bathroom and a bedroom. The third door, however, was made of glass, so Draco could see straight through it. It led out to a small balcony. The only furniture there were two chairs and a tiny table, but that was all that fit.

Draco sighed, annoyed. Weasley was sure taking his time with the food. The door to the kitchen was beside the bookshelf. It was open, so he could see some of what was inside. He saw a small kitchen bench and a new-looking table with some chairs. Ron, on the other hand, wasn't in his line of sight.

Draco waited impatiently for the redhead to finish cooking, drumming his fingers on the armrest of the sofa. Some very long minutes later he stuck his head out of the door. "The food is ready," he muttered, before he retreated back in. Draco slowly rose from the couch. He regretted his decision of staying, but he couldn't really go back home without feeling like a dick. He strode into the kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs. Weasley carefully placed two plates of food on the table. They appeared to Draco as unappetizing, fat pancakes with meat.

"What is that?" Draco asked, eyeing the food with great suspicion.

"Bacon pancakes," Ron replied, shrugging. "They're really good."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"How can you mix bacon and pancakes?" he asked doubtfully while the redhead got himself seated.

"I dunno," Ron answered. He sounded a bit more cheerful now, probably because he wasn't alone and he had something to occupy himself with. A small smile appeared on his face.

"But it's really good" He picked up his cutlery, so he could start cutting the pancake into small pieces, much like a child.

Draco shook his head internally, wondering how he'd gotten himself in this strange situation. He proceeded to cut off a piece of his own pancake, and hesitantly took a bite. His face remained oddly emotionless as he chewed and swallowed.

"It's surprisingly good," he said and took another bite of the pancake.

They ate their meal in silence. Without a word Ron cleaned of the table. He dumped the plates in the sink before he walked over to the table again, where Draco was still seated.

"Thank you for the food, or, you know… whatever," Draco mumbled.

"You're welcome, I guess," Ron answered him, awkwardly looking at the floor.

Draco got up from the chair, silently. He couldn't think of anything he could possibly say or do to make this less awkward. He walked back into the living room and sat down on one end of the couch. Ron took a seat on the opposite end. Draco thanked god that this was a big couch, or this would have been really awkward.

Several minutes passed without a word. Ron's owl kept tossing around in its cage, squeaking. Draco watched it for a while, until he finally cleared his throat and spoke. "Nice owl you've got there."

Ron turned around to look at him. "Thanks. He doesn't have a name yet, though," he shrugged. "Ginny wants me to call him Hubert, but I don't like that name."

And that was the start of a very long conversation. They talked about everything, forgetting who they really were. Forgetting that they had spent several years being enemies. Forgetting that Draco hadn't initially wanted to be there. For a moment, they even forgot why they were there together. They spent the entire night talking.

And by dawn they had become what most people would think of as friends.

**That was a looooong wait. And the original of this was really crap, so lots of hugs and shit to the girl who beta'ed it. You deserve a big ass award with sparkles.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: Demons**

**Author: staringmushrooms**

**Pairing: DM/RW**

**Rating: T**

**Warnings: slash, swearing**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, blahblahblah.**

"I need to go to work soon," Draco said, looking at Ron. They had spent all night talking, so neither of them had gotten any sleep. Draco's wristwatch showed 08:13 AM, making it hours since their last meal.

"Do you have to?" Ron tiredly murmured. A yawn silently escaped his mouth.

"Yeah," Draco answered him.

"Are you coming back?" Ron asked, not bothering to explain why he was asking. Draco probably knew already.

"If you want me to," he answered the redhead.

"Thanks," Ron said, looking down.

The room fell silent for a while. The only sound they could hear came from Ron's owl, which was trashing around in its cage. A few minutes passed.

"Do you want any breakfast?" Ron asked, breaking the silence.

"I can just get some from the café across the street from Mungo's, or something. They actually have really great food there."

"Oh, okay," Ron said, sounding only a little disappointed.

Draco shot his watch a quick glance. "I better get going," he said, while he rose from the couch. He picked up his jacket, which was lying in a heap on the floor beside the couch. Draco walked over to the door and opened it, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. He could see the fear in Ron's eyes, and for a moment he thought of staying. He shook it off.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," Draco said, with a reassuring smile. The door slammed behind him as he left the apartment, leaving Ron alone.

The apartment seemed oddly empty without Draco there. It was weird. It shouldn't feel that way. Ron had lived alone for almost a year now and had gotten quite used to the feeling. This was something else. Something he hadn't felt before. What if this was his head messing with him? Could he be starting to lose his mind? No. He couldn't think like that. He was not going to lose his mind. No way. He tried to shrug it off, but if wasn't entirely successful.

He was hungry; really hungry, actually. He slowly got up from the couch and made his way over to the kitchen. He paid attention to every sound he made. His owl had finally stopped squeaking, leaving the apartment silent.

Once in the kitchen, Ron pulled open the fridge, staring at its contents. It wasn't much; he needed to go grocery shopping soon. He pulled out a half-full carton of milk and some jam, before he got the bread from a cabinet. Luckily, his bread was already cut into slices. He spread the jam around slowly, afraid to make any noise. Once he finally had completed his task, he poured a glass of milk and took a seat at the table. He took his time eating, keeping as quiet as possible.

Suddenly his owl squeaked loudly, causing Ron to jump. His heartbeat sped up and his hands started shaking violently. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm down. It was probably nothing, but he couldn't quite get rid of the uneasy feeling. He shoved his plate away, as his appetite was long gone.

Ron's hands eventually stopped shaking. He had stared at them for what seemed like hours; as they trembled and twitched, unable to hold still. He sighed. He hadn't been alone for more than half an hour and he was already on the verge of freaking out. Ron quickly stood up without making any sound and walked out of the kitchen and over to the bookshelf. He pulled out a book at random, before he slumped down at the couch. Reading had never been something he enjoyed, but at least it was a method of distracting him from other things.

Hours later, a knock on the door announced Draco's arrival. Ron peeked over the edge of his book, and muttered a quiet "come in." The door opened, and Draco walked into the room, carrying a small, black bag. His dark jacket was covered in melting snowflakes; apparently it was snowing quite heavy outside.

"Hi," Ron said, as Draco pulled of his jacket. "What's the bag for?" He didn't really need to ask, as he had a pretty good idea of its purpose.

"You probably want me to spend the night again, so yeah. I'm gonna need some stuff, because I'm not staying up all night this time."

"Thank you," Ron said with a weak smile, while Draco made his way over to the couch. He took a seat on the empty end and kicked of his shoes, sending them flying across the room, landing a couple of feet away from the door.

"Do you want any food or something?" Ron asked the blonde, smiling.

"Yeah, I'm a little hungry," Draco answered him.

"I'll make some food then."

"I'll help you," Draco said while they both got up from the couch.

Ron smiled. "You don't need to, if you don't want to."

"I want to," Draco said. "You'll have to teach me tough, I've always had elves to do the cooking for me."

Ron let out a short laugh. With Draco around, he was much happier than he was alone. "Okay," he smiled, as they made their made over to the kitchen.

"So, uhm, what should we make?" Ron asked the blonde.

"I don't know, just make something," Draco answered. He felt weird, talking to a Weasley about dinner. It was never something he would normally do, as he grew up hating the whole Weasley family.

"Oh, okay. But you should really decide, you're my guest after all."

"But you can do it. I don't care."

After quite a bit of discussing, they decided on pasta. With barely anything left in his fridge, this was about the only thing they had the ingredients to make. Ron guided Draco through the process of boiling it, as Draco had no clue of what to do. Eventually they finished cooking, with a not too bad result.

After Ron had cleaned of and set the table, they both sat down to eat their meal.

"So, how was work?" Ron asked, between mouthfuls of pasta.

"It was okay, I guess" Draco replied. "I was dead tired all day – thanks to you – but otherwise it was alright. I discussed your case with my boss, and they've put up an appointment for you next week. It's not a huge deal; you'll just have to talk to someone with a fancy degree in psychology."

"On what day?" he asked. This whole talking to someone thing scared him, as he had never been one to be open about his feelings.

"Tuesday, I think. I can walk you home, but you'll need to get there by yourself."

Tuesday. That was five days away. "Okay. Thank you,"

Draco smiled down at his food. He wanted to tell him that there was no need to thank him, but that would almost be the same as admitting that being with the Weasley wasn't too bad.

They finished their meal in silence. But this wasn't the awkward silence. Not at all. It was more of a calm, accepting silence.

After a few silent minutes, Draco finally broke the silence. "Thank you for the meal," he said, giving Ron a short smile.

"You shouldn't thank me; you helped cook it," Ron answered him as he gathered the plates.

"But you know, it was your food," Draco said, while Ron dumped the plates in the sink. Ron got out his wand, and waved it around, while muttering some charm. The plates started washing themselves, and they were clean in under a minute. Ron picked them up and placed them back in the cabinet.

They both walked into the living room again, and sat down at opposite ends of the couch. For some reason, neither of them would touch the middle pillow. They sat practically pinned to the armrest, leaving one of the middle pillow completely unoccupied. For some minutes, casual conversation kept the silence away, until the calm, accepting silence once again made its appearance.

Ron's yawn was the first thing to break through the silence this time. He covered his mouth with his hand, until he was finally able to close it again.

"Are you tired?" Draco asked him, not feeling all that awake himself.

"Yeah, a little," Ron answered.

"Do you want to go to bed or something?"

"Yeah, maybe," Ron said, holding back another yawn.

"Okay," Draco said, pulling a hand through his hair. He needed to shower soon.

Ron got up, and walked over to the bathroom door before he entered the room. Draco could hear the sound of Ron brushing his teeth while he found his bag to get his own toothbrush. He pulled out some sheets from the bottom and carried them over to the couch. He could sleep there. Even though he and the Weasley were friends in a way, there was no way that Draco was going to share a bed with him.

When Ron finally got out of the bathroom, Draco went to brush his teeth. Ron's bathroom looked pretty much the same as the rest of his apartment, very white and mostly empty of furniture. The floor was about the only thing that wasn't white. It was a black tile floor, which looked surprisingly shiny. Draco quickly brushed his teeth, before he got out of the bathroom. Weasley was standing by the bookshelf, pushing in a large, dark book Draco couldn't see the title of.

Ron turned around and gave Draco a tired smile. "Good night," he said, while he crossed the room to get to his bedroom.

"Yeah, good night," Draco answered, just as Weasley closed the door behind him. Draco made his way over to the couch. He still wasn't entirely comfortable with being here, and now he was supposed to sleep here? It was his own fault that he was here after all, so he couldn't really complain all that much about it. He laid down, finally realizing how tired he was. It didn't take very long before he fell asleep, getting a better night's sleep than he had gotten in a long time.

**I'm not even going to apologize for a long wait and a shitty chapter. I'm just gonna go sit in a corner and feel ashamed. **


End file.
